Embracing Eternity (7 page)

“I want to stay with you, Evan. Please. I want to stay.”

Evan didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask her to confirm this was what she wanted. He’d spent too long watching her from afar, waiting for her to say yes.

He enfolded them in power, hid them from the prying eyes of the Realms. The bubble surrounding them hid the harsh reality of winter, projecting the illusion of a sultry summer day in its place.

The skeletal trees surrounding them seemed to burst forth leaves and birdsong filled the air. He created a bed of soft grasses and wildflowers and laid them on it. In the midst of a dead winter, Evan created the illusion of an Earthly paradise.

All for Meela. All to give her the beauty she deserved.

It was incredible, almost unbelievable that after more than ten thousand years of seeing her lost, wandering, millennia of wanting from afar, Meela was finally in his arms.

He wrapped his wings around them. Slipping his fingers into the mass of her dreadlocks, he tugged and tipped her face up to his. Evan brushed his lips over hers in the barest of kisses, as if that one little act could tell her just how much he cherished her.

She shivered in his arms, a fine tremor that exposed her fear as surely as an earthquake.

“He’ll find us.”

There was no question of whom she spoke.

Lucifer. The Devil himself haunted Meela.

Evan poured more power into the illusion surrounding them, shielding them from the eyes of any being who might be searching. Over their heads, the false sky brightened more. He filled the air with birdsong and the lush heat of summer.

“He will not find us. I’ll hide us away and no one will.”

“We can’t hide forever.”

“No, but we can for now.” He tipped her chin up until she looked at him, willed her to really see him, just once. “Give me now, Meela. You give me now and I’ll give you forever.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t believe, he could see it in her eyes, but she nodded anyway.

She’d believe soon enough. Renatus would find the answer and Evan would take his Fallen angel home to be redeemed.

He dipped his head and kissed her once more, this time holding nothing back. He poured into her every bit of love and longing, every drop of power that he possibly could. Her barriers dropped and it flowed openly between them. Hers came to him soiled and tainted and he cleansed it before channeling it back to her.

The energy built between them, charging him until his skin seemed to crackle with want. Blood flowed hot and thick to his cock and his muscles tensed with the need to move.

The tide of mutual arousal seemed to have just the opposite effect on Meela. Where he went hard, she softened. Where he tensed, she relaxed. She pressed into him, surrendering with a sigh.

The power between them shifted with their desire, flowing from him to her and back again in an unending circle. With one arm, he lifted her over him until her body was draped over his and he could feel her every curve through the barrier of their clothes.

Meela clutched at him, taking the lead. Her lips parted and he followed suit, operating more on mimicry and instinct than knowledge. Their tongues tangled and a growling noise escaped him.

He was strong, powerful, overwhelmed by the desire to plunder the soft, feminine body pressed so tight against him.

Was this what physical love did to a male?

But then Meela shifted, rubbing her soft belly against his throbbing cock, and Evan understood that arousal didn’t make a male strong; it made him weak, helpless as a fledgling.

Meela shifted again, using her entire body to stroke his. His gossamer robes slid between them, caressing his skin. Pulling her mouth from his, she made her way down his body. Her sharp teeth grazed over his throat and he shivered at the sensation.

She was holding back. He was at her mercy and she knew it, but she wouldn’t let those sharp canines do any damage, not even the slightest scratch.

Evan closed his eyes and tipped his chin up, baring his throat, giving her his trust. Her lips and teeth drifted over his skin, sending ripples of pleasure over him. Through their shared power, he could feel her pleasure as well, a smug satisfaction.

That discordant emotion forced his eyes open. Meela had shifted again, changing into a more angelic form. She was beautiful, looking so much like her heavenly self that he could almost let himself believe she was already redeemed, ready to take her place once more among the Host.

The fairest of the angels, ready to come home.

She parted the neck of his robes and eased her way down his body, teasing him with nibbles and flicks of her tongue over his skin. Her nails traced over the contours of his chest and the delicate scrape sent shivers through him.

Evan trembled, helpless under her mouth and hands. With another shift, she was nibbling his abdomen. A small tug from her had his robes falling open completely.

Her mouth inched over his skin, licking, nipping. She paused to nip her way around his navel, then her head dipped. Without warning, she took him in her mouth, sucking him deep and hard.

Evan couldn’t stop his strangled groan. His spine arched and he tried to thrust deeper, to where her throat closed tight over the head of his cock.

The heat of hellfire and Heaven’s paradise met in her mouth. She held him helpless, a captive to her ministrations. His wings beat helplessly against the earth as her tongue stroked him. Merciful Heavens. Was it possible for an angel to die from sheer pleasure?

She pulled back, sucking hard as she did, so hard it felt as if his cock would explode from the wet slide of her full lips over his shaft. Just before his cock came free, she bobbed her head, setting up a fast rhythm.

The wet slide of her lips over him, the stroke of her tongue and the sweet suction was too much. His hands came up and he tangled his fingers through her hair to hold her.

Meela stiffened, going still and stiff as stone at his touch.

Evan released her, but brought his wings around to keep her close. Jerking away, she backed as far as his embracing wings would allow, her eyes hard.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She appeared to have to think about that one. “No. I just…”

He let her leave his arms, but kept her under his wings. Not that this would block her escape. She had enough power in her now to simply vanish.

But she stayed, leaning against his plumage in silent demand that he not touch. A request he respected, even though every feather was twitching with the need to hold and shelter her.

“I don’t like being held.” Meela’s voice was sharp, demanding that he respect her wishes.

Evan tipped his head to one side, studying her and trying to search for hidden meaning in her words. He found only simple truth.

“I cannot hold you when we make love?”

“Sex, Evan. It’s sex. It has nothing to do with love.” Her brow arched haughtily and he felt the sting of her disdain.

“It has everything to do—”

“Do not try to educate me when you know nothing.”

Evan stiffened his spine and pulled his wings from around her, releasing her to tighten them against his spine. “I know enough—”

“No, you don’t. Don’t try to pretend. You are a virgin who knows nothing of what happens between a male and female. You think it’s all love but you’re wrong. Sex isn’t love, it’s two bodies rutting. It’s power and domination.”

Her truth rang clear, honest and untarnished by the taint of demon. In those words, Evan saw the last ten thousand years of Meela’s existence. He saw her battered, bruised and broken by Lucifer’s hand, saw the angel who once gave affection so freely being robbed of the gift of her love until she had nothing left.

“I want to give it back to you.” His words were barely a whisper, but she heard. Her breath caught on a choking gasp and her wings gave a violent flutter before she flattened them against her back.

Oh yes, she heard.

“I should not have agreed to this. The idea that the two of us could have even stolen moments is ridiculous. Forget about this, about me, Evan. Go back to Heaven where you’ll be safe.”

Her face contorted in pain and her body twitched, as if the thought of sending him away caused her physical pain.

He hoped it did. He hoped that the thought of him leaving tormented her.

Because that would mean she loved him.

He shifted to reach across the distance she’d placed between them. With one finger under her chin, he tipped her face upward until she was forced to look into his eyes once more.

“You are the one I love and I will never forsake you.”

She tried to pull away. “Evan—”

“No.” He brushed his thumb over her lips, quieting her. “You spoke already. Now I will talk.”

Meela pressed her lips together and her eyes gleamed with defiance, but she let him have his say.

“What you have known since leaving the fold is an abomination, a grotesque parody of an act meant to be the ultimate demonstration of love.”

He could see the words roll over her, rippling over her consciousness but not sinking in. Simple reassurance made no impression in ten thousand years of abuse.

He shifted to kneel before her. Gently brushing her hair back from her face, he infused his touch, his words, his presence with as much reassurance as he could.

“Love gives, it doesn’t take. It accepts instead of alters and isn’t proven with acts of obedience. You call me naive and innocent, and it’s true. I have not shared this love with another, haven’t given of myself to anyone, because there is only one I love enough to give my soul.”

He leaned in more and pressed his forehead against hers, hoping that what he was saying, what he felt in his heart, would sink into her.

“Please, Meela. Let me give you pleasure. I ask nothing in return.”

Her body shook as his breath hitched.

“I don’t know if I can.”

A shiver racked her and he held her tighter. Meela had always had a prideful nature. How much had that small admission cost her?

How much must she trust him to make it?

“Ah, my dear one. Don’t you know I cherish you? Let me show you how much.”

Her fingers curled in his robes and she held fast to him.

“Show me, Evan. Teach me what it means to be loved.”

Chapter Seven

Meela buried her face in Evan’s robes and squeezed her eyes shut tight, as if by doing so she could pretend she hadn’t just said that. Her blood still burned in punishment for trying to send him to safety, but the need to love him, be loved by him, far outweighed the unholy compulsion placed by Lucifer. This was a mistake, she knew it was, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing on to him, from letting herself believe that this was right.

This isn’t real. The Master will come and when he does…

She swallowed hard.

No. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d protect Evan.

Another wave of pain ripped through her as the oath Lucifer had forced laced her blood with acid. Her intent had triggered reprimand. She’d promised a betrayal and Lucifer wouldn’t allow her to break that promise. The oath, given in haste, would give the Master control of her actions. If Evan was in reach when Lucifer called, he would be as damned as she.

She was trapped.

Worse yet, the sting of acid meant the time of reckoning was drawing near. The moment of betrayal approached and there would be no turning back.

The Master was already coming.

No. She couldn’t think about that. For now she was hidden. Even if one of the lessers had made it back to tell the Master where they were, he wouldn’t be able to find them through Evan’s shield.

She had time still, a few fleeting moments with Evan. Precious moments where she could feel special and loved, forget that she was a demon, worthless and contemptible. If she was lucky, she would be able to send Evan safely away before the oath overtook her.

Evan’s gentle hands stroked over her back, carefully avoiding the ticklish spots under her wings. Did he know she didn’t like her wings tickled? Did he remember that about her through all these centuries, or was it just a coincidence?

She wanted to pretend he knew, that he was a lover who cherished every little thing about her.

“May I touch you?” Though the words were whispered, they went through her like a shout.

He’d asked permission. No one asked permission to touch her.

A little of her fear crumbled away and she used some of the precious power he’d given her to make the remainder of her clothing vanish.

Evan gave a shuddering sigh and spread his hands wide over her back.

Just as Lucifer had done right before he would grab her by the wings.

No. Oh no.

She could feel a seed of terror struggling to take root in her soul. Memories of other hands on her, hurtful hands, threatened to steal even this small pleasure.

“Look at me, Meela.” Evan’s gentle command pushed back the fear before it could find purchase. “Tell me who is holding you.”

“Evan.” His name came out on a breath and calmness seeped into her soul. Evan held her. Evan who wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt her. He was a protector, a defender. Never a warrior, always a guardian.

Evan would never hurt her.

“Evan,” she said again, this time with acceptance.

He eased her onto her back, placing gentle kisses along her jaw as she relaxed against him. Beneath her, the ground was soft and warm as a bed of moss in summer, the perfect bed for a pair of lovers.

His hand drifted over her skin, tracing the contours of her body and edging almost hesitantly toward her breast. She stilled waiting, every nerve in her body pleading, for him to close the distance and take her in hand. His fingertips skimmed her ribs, sending a ripple of goose bumps over her skin.

By all that was holy, he was killing her. If she had feathers they’d all be standing on end. She arched and made a small sound of impatience, but that didn’t make him move any faster. He continued to outline her curves, dipping to drag one fingertip over the curve of her waist, then wrapping his hand over her hip, sending a flush of warmth through her.

He kissed and nibbled his way down her neck, inch by teasing inch, all the while keeping his hands in motion, caressing and exploring her contours.

He gave her collarbone a sharp nip before he scooted down, putting that wonderful mouth level with her breasts.

Yes, please. Please do.

He didn’t. She wanted to scream in frustration as he placed soft kisses over her chest, carefully avoiding her breasts.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, the words hot against her bare skin. “Even lovelier than I ever imagined.”

She shifted under him, unable to accept his words. She wasn’t lovely. Her soul was black with shame and she didn’t deserve to be loved by a seraph like Evan. His lips brushed over the curve of one breast. She was burning up, her body heavy with need and want.

“Please Evan,” she begged.

“Please what?”

“Kiss me. Please kiss me.”

“I am kissing you.” His mouth skimmed over her flesh again and she wanted to scream in frustration.

“Not like that, dammit. Please, Evan.”

“How do you want me to kiss you then? Shall I kiss you like you kissed me?”

She couldn’t answer, couldn’t make a sound. She answered with her body instead, arching under him, trying to direct his mouth to her breast.

He stilled for just a heartbeat before turning his head. His lips hovered over the needy point for an agonizing moment. His breath warmed her in uneven waves, tremulous against her sensitive skin. Then he dipped ever so slightly to place a tender kiss on one hard nipple, ghosting over the tight peak so lightly she wasn’t sure it was real.

Then his mouth took her nipple in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate, needy and restrained. He flicked his tongue over the hard knot, tentatively at first. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His loving touch sent tendrils of warmth through her. Soothing and electrifying at the same time, they acted as a balm to Lucifer’s acid.

Arousal flared and she felt empty, her core wanting something, anything to fill it.

No, not anything. She wanted Evan.

His mouth left her nipple to find the other. Taking it in his mouth, he nipped at it before sucking it so hard it ached.

Meela’s breath caught and her back arched. This was what she’d been missing, maybe what she’d never had before. Pure pleasure. Pure love.

Sliding her leg over his, she placed one hand against the center of his back and pulled him close until he settled in the crux of her thighs. Close but not quite right. She wiggled a bit, scooting until his hard, hot stomach was pressed just
there
, where she needed it most. A shuddering breath escaped her as the hot pressure on her clit increased.

He felt good, oh so good.

She canted her hips, pressing harder and rocking against him. It had been so long since she’d truly experienced pleasure. There had been small thrills, the heady rush of power as she’d taken advantage of some hapless soul, but those empty amusements had been pale shadows of this overwhelming wave of want, and need, and love.

Just when she thought she couldn’t bear any more, Evan moved.

He paid homage to her, not missing a single inch of skin as he licked and nibbled his way down her body. Each caress of his tongue sent ripples of fire and ice through her.

Hooking a hand behind her knee, Evan spread her more. She stilled, waiting for the moment he would lean back and examine her, leave her vulnerable and exposed.

But this was Evan. He’d never let her feel that kind of discomfit. He never lifted his lips from her skin as he inched his way to her core. He blanketed her, using his wings to provide her warmth and security.

“You have to show me,” he said, nuzzling the sensitive crease of her thigh.

Her brow wrinkled as she tried to make sense of his words. “Show you what?”

“How to please you. How to show you that love can be perfect.” He placed a reverent kiss on her clit and electricity shot through her, arching her back and seizing her breath.

“There. That.” She gasped, her voice garbled, even to her ears.

He tipped his head up to look at her, chuckling. “That little bit there?”

“Yes. That little bit is an important bit. Give it lots of attention.”

He dipped his head again, but this time he kept his eyes focused on her face, watching her with such intensity she felt his scrutiny in her soul.

He kissed her again, this time slower and with purpose, his movements confident despite his lack of experience. Her body reacted with sharp pangs of pleasure. They echoed through her and her muscles coiled in response.

This was all too much, and yet not enough. She wanted to thread her fingers through his hair, to arch up and push her pussy into his face.

And yet, waiting was so much sweeter.

He gave her long, slow licks. Tasting her. Exploring her. His mouth moved over her tender flesh almost lazily, not rushing the moment or neglecting a single facet of her pleasure. All the while, his eyes held hers and he learned, repeating the movements that left her gasping, sharpening the actions that made her fingers dig into the ground below her.

Then came the gentle pressure of one finger sliding into her.

“How should I touch you?” he asked, his words muffled against her.

“Up by your fingertips,” she gasped. “Stroke just behind the bone.”

His brow wrinkled as he searched for the place she’d indicated with slow thrusts of his hand. Her breath caught and her body clamped down on him as his finger brushed it.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Right there. Slow. Firm.”

He added a second finger and caressed the bundle of nerves, his fingertips pressing it with the steady thrust of his hand.

Meela’s body tightened with every stroke of his fingertips, every flick of his tongue. Through it all she could feel him watching her, studying her reactions and using them to guide him.

A whimper escaped her. It wasn’t enough.

“What do you need Meela? Tell me.”

But she couldn’t tell him, couldn’t say a word. Need had locked the words tight in her throat and she couldn’t force them out.

Digging her heels into the soft earth, she pushed up against his face, trying to guide him instead.
There. Harder. Faster.

He seemed to understand. His fingers increased speed and he sucked hard on her clit, giving it a small nip as he did.

The small bit of hurt sent her over the edge. It was almost like Falling again. Fire exploded over her skin, singeing her, tearing her apart and sending her hurtling through space. It vibrated through her, the shock sending answering ripples through her body and mind.

It seemed to go on and on, and yet was over all too soon. Meela drifted until her shattered soul came together again, remade into something new. Something better.

Something loved.

He settled beside her and she rolled against him, his loose gossamer robes tangling around them.

“You didn’t come,” she said, stroking one hand down his chest to where his robes angled across his stomach.

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

She propped herself up on one elbow and leaned over him. “You are so self-sacrificing it’s almost annoying.”

“Almost. What would it take to be really annoying?”

“Right now I feel too good to be annoyed by anything but the fact that you aren’t feeling as good as I am.” She found the edge of his robes and tugged, but it was stuck, pinned tight under them.

Too sated to fight it, she settled for stroking him through the gossamer. Finer than silk, it hid little of his feel, hard and long, the heat of his cock burned in her hand. He’d fill her so nicely. The thought sent a fresh rush of heat through her and she could feel the slick slide of her own arousal.

Wrapping her hand around him, she began to pump, sliding the silky material over his cock. He was already close, she could tell. Even through the fabric, she could feel his balls pulled up tight and the tension making his muscles tremble.

Evan buried his face in her hair. Heat washed over her as his breath came in harsh gasps. With a groan he began to rock in time to her fist. “Ah, Meela, do not,” he panted as her pace increased.

Merciful Heavens, she wanted to feel him, wanted to be skin-to-skin against him, but she couldn’t even concentrate enough to make his robes vanish.

She pulled her knee up and moved to straddle him, so that his cock and her fist were tight against her wet flesh. Their movements forced her own knuckles against her clit. Every shift in their bodies, every thrust and parry, sent a new wave of need through her. Holding still, she let him pump into her hand, let him control the speed.

Her own rush to orgasm took her by surprise. After the force of her last one, she hadn’t expected to actually want to come again.

But the tension was building. It was smaller, less intense than the last, but she could definitely come again. Her spine tightened, twisting and bowing, arching her body. Beneath her, Evan began to shudder and groan.